


A Tale of A Table

by writera



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, its cute ok, second work!, they meet over a table
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writera/pseuds/writera
Summary: El and Mike meet over a table in college but they get off to a rocky start.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	A Tale of A Table

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FateChica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateChica/gifts).



> This is my second work and it was really fun writing this! Thank you all for the comments and kudos on my last one. I gifted this to FateChica because she's the reason I got into writing. Even though she doesn't even know I exist, she is a big inspiration to me and I love her works.

Several months into her college career, El discovered the perfect spot in the library. It was a single-person table nestled in the back of the third floor between the political and English theater sections. It was an area that had very little foot traffic with the added bonus of being a comfortable distance from the restrooms - an incomparable benefit for an avid coffee drinker such as El. It was perfection.

And then he showed up.

Logically, El knew that she could not be upset with a stranger for discovering her table. Just as she had every right to sit there in between classes and on an odd Friday night, so did he. Yes, logically, El knew that she did not have an indignant leg to stand on. Realistically, though, she didn’t care. That stranger took her perfect library spot and she was mad as hell.

“Can you believe the nerve? I mean, everyone knows that’s my table,” El huffed after finding the table occupied after her morning British literature class. 

“Actually, no one knows you own it,” Max pointed out. “You just unilaterally announced that five minutes ago.”

“Come on, it’s an unspoken rule. When someone favors a certain table it is common courtesy to not take that table. Everyone knows that. Unless you were raised in a barn, which this guy probably was.”

“I think you’re being too harsh.”

“Oh, I’m not. He knows what he’s doing. One time we both were heading to the table and he actually made eye contact with me when he sat down.”

Max gave her an unimpressed look.

“Eye contact, Max!”

“Yes, I heard you the first time and I am still unimpressed. Just get a new table. It’s not a big deal.”

Max didn’t understand. The table was so much more than just a table to El. She knew it was silly, but it had come to be representative of her finding her place in this new collegiate world. She’d been nervous to go so far from home, and in the beginning it hadn’t been easy. She didn’t make friends quickly and she found herself struggling in class more than she expected. But things seemed to fall into place when she found that table. She met Max after her roommate, Stacey Albright , dragged her to a fraternity party. She worked out a study schedule that allowed her to both be prepared for her classes and sleep. While El knew it wasn’t actually because of the table, she couldn’t help but think that it was her good luck charm. How would the next three years go if she didn’t have it anymore?

The next day El decided that she would confront him. There was no other way to deal with the situation than head on. He typically had the table Thursday afternoons, and sure enough, she walked over after her statistics class and he was seated in her spot, typing away on his laptop. She took a deep breath before walking over and stopping beside him. She expected him to look up and when he didn’t, she loudly cleared her throat.

Once. Twice. 

On the third time he looked up and asked, “Do you need a throat drop or something?”

“What? A throat drop - no. I’m not - it’s not…” she trailed off, giving up on any semblance of niceties. After a deep breath she blurted out, “You stole my table!”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve studied at this table every day for the past semester. And now suddenly you show up! This is my table. I found it first.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am very serious.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment before reaching forward and closing his laptop. He turned toward her and said, “This table does not belong to you. It belongs to the school. And since I’m assuming we both are paying some sort of tuition to be here - correct me if I’m wrong - we each have equal claim to this table.”

El swallowed hard and stammered, “A gentleman would give up the table.”

The boy crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a gentleman. Well, for me. Not you.”

Something about his cool demeanor set El off, and she narrowed her eyes before she snapped, “This isn’t over.”

“I hate him. He’s such a jerk. Can you believe what a jerk he is?”

“He sounds hot,” Max said between bites of French fries. “Is he hot?”

“That’s beside the point.”

Max’s eyes widened. “Oh, El, that is 100% the point now!”

El ignored her and mused, “Is pulling the fire alarm when he’s at the table too much?” Max stared at her and El quickly said, “Yeah, it’s too much. I know it’s too much.”

“Seriously, though, why does he have you so hot and bothered? That one girl who smells like soup used to sit there, too, and you never went on about her this much.”

“I don’t know. There’s just something about him. He rubs me the wrong way.”

Max raised her eyebrows and El said, “If you say anything about him rubbing me the right way, I will throw my coffee at you.”

Max smiled sweetly and said, “It never even crossed my mind.”

“Sure it didn’t.“

“If you want the table so much, why don’t you just talk to him? See if you can work out a sort of custody arrangement.”

“A custody arrangement for a table?”

“Yes. You get it on “x” days. He gets them on “y” days. Problem solved.”

“That’s actually not a terrible idea,” El said. Half of her annoyance with him came from her going to the table to find that he was there. That would be removed entirely if she knew definitively when he’d be there.

The next day, El found him at her table and floated the idea to him.

“You want to set up a custody arrangement for a table?”

“I think the end will justify the unconventional means,” El said crisply. She held out her hand. “So, what do you say?”

He hesitated before reaching out and shaking her hand. “I’m Mike, by the way.”

"I’m El.”

They co-existed peacefully with their arrangement, El happily claiming the table on Monday/Wednesday/Friday and allowing Mike residence on Tuesday/Thursday/Sunday. They even switched days a few times, Mike coming to see her near the end of her study session to approve the arrangement. A few weeks in, he started leaving her notes.

The table was a bit rude today. You probably should talk to it.

\- Mike

Some jerk carved a misspelled Spanish swear word into the side of the table. Should we consider counseling?

\- Mike

El didn’t know how she was supposed to feel about his notes, but she found herself looking forward to them. After a bit, she even left her own.

The table seemed sad today. I think it may not be getting enough attention.

\- El

Please reiterate to the table how sorry I am for spilling that cup of coffee. I promise to be a better occupant.

\- El

“Can you guys just date already?” Max asked after several months of note swapping and table-sitting. “Or go back to when you hated him?”

“It’s not like that,” El said. 

“I think you need to see him outside of the library. Have a normal interaction. Why don’t you invite him to the Delta party this weekend.”

“How are we getting into the Delta party?”

“Lucas. Don’t worry, he said I can bring people. Invite him!”

El was reluctant, although there was truth in what Max was hedging at. Things had seemed to shift between her and Mike, and while she didn’t quite know how she felt about it, she wasn’t opposed to exploring what it might be. So, that afternoon - one of his days - she strolled over to him and invited him out.

“Really?” he asked with mild hesitance.

“Yes, really. Unless you don’t want to go. If you don’t, then-”

“No,” he said quickly. “That sounds nice. Thanks.”

“Good,” El said, rocking a bit on her heels. “So, I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.”  


El chose one of her favorite outfits for the party and ignored Max when she said that proved she had a thing for Mike. She anxiously waited for him to show up and when he did, she was surprised - and disappointed - to discover that he brought someone else with him. El recognized her after a second. Lindsay Miller. She was one of those girls who was effortlessly cool. Absolutely the type she could see with Mike. El took in Lindsay’s leather leggings and crop top and thought to herself how juvenile her own yellow jumper must look in comparison.

“Hi Mike.”

“Hey El. This is Lindsay.”

“Yeah, I think we have British literature together,” El said, nodding toward Lindsay. “It’s great to see you.”

“Totally,” Lindsay said. “This party is kick ass. Thanks for the invite.”

El looked over at Mike and murmured, “Absolutely.”

“I’m going to grab a drink,” Lindsay said. She saw that El already held a cup and asked Mike, “You want one?”

“Um, yeah, sure. Do you want me to come with?”

“Nah, you stay here. I’ll be back.”

El watched Lindsay disappear into the crowd. “I didn’t know you knew her. Although, I guess I don’t know that much about you.”

“We’ve known each other for a while. So, how exactly did you find this party? It doesn’t really seem like you.”

“That’s because it’s not. My best friend is dating someone in the fraternity.”

“Ah, that makes much more sense.”

El nodded, watching Lindsay make her way back to them. She didn’t know how the girl got drinks so fast, nor did she know why it made her stomach squirm when she sidled up to Mike and slid her hand over his shoulder as she handed him his drink.

“Well, I should go and find Max,” El said with a tight smile. “I hope you guys enjoy the party.”

El made a beeline for Max and Lucas, and then at the last moment swerved to the right and left the party, throwing a final glance toward Mike and Lindsay. Max watched her with concern and followed that last turn of El’s head before she left. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Mike and another girl. Max handed Lucas her drink.

“I need to go take care of something.”

She marched over to Mike and said, “You and I need to have a little chat.” She looked over at Lindsay and asked, “Can I steal your friend for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure. Mike, I’ll be over by the beer pong.”

Mike nodded and then looked over at Max. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m Max. El’s best friend. And because she won’t say something, I will. Why the hell would you bring another girl to something she invited you to?”

“Why does it matter?”

Max sighed. “Because she likes you, dummy. She probably doesn’t even realize it yet, but she likes you. And this was the first of many long, tedious and arguably convoluted steps for her to realize it. Which you, for the record, have completely bungled. Honestly, I don’t know if you two can get past this.”

“She likes me,” Mike repeated. “Huh.”

Max shook her head. “Okay. Clearly you both are terrible at this. She likes you. You clearly like her. You need to go and try to make this right. She’s over at Dunphy Hall, room number -”

“She’s not going to her room,” Mike interrupted. He could picture her. “I know where she’s going.”

Max smiled and for the first time since he met her, Mike was not moderately terrified of her. “I knew I was right about you. Now, go!”

El sat at their table, running her fingertips along the smooth edges. She was still moderately buzzed from the party, which was probably why she didn’t hear him coming. She didn’t even know he was there until he was standing right in front of her. He cleared his throat once. Twice. On the third time she told him, “Don’t ask me for a throat drop because I don’t have any.”

He laughed slightly. “That probably wasn’t my best opening line.”

“It wasn’t very charming.”

He settled on the edge of the table and remarked, “You left the party quickly.”

“I wasn’t really in a partying mood. Where’s Lindsay? You two seemed to be in a partying mood.”

“Turns out I really wasn’t,” he said. “And she’s still there.”

El looked up at him. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Lindsay’s been doing her own thing since we were five. So, no, not really.”

El considered that for a moment and said, “I thought you two were…”

“I know. But we’re not. We tried it for about a day in junior high and then promised to never try it again. We’re better off as friends.”

El nodded, looking down at the table again. “I didn’t like it when I saw her with you. I don’t know why. But I didn’t like it.”

“I don’t think I would have liked it if I saw you with another guy, either.”

She looked up at him. “You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t.”

El considered this for a moment and then said, “I think I like you.”

She winced afterwards and he laughed.

“Saying that probably shouldn’t cause you physical pain. But, you know what, who am I to judge? I think I like you, too. Actually, no.”

“No?”

“No,” he said resolutely. “I know I like you. I’ve known since you first yelled at me at this table. There aren’t many people who would get so worked up over library seating.”

“It was about more than a table.”

“I know,” he said in a sobering voice. And then, she understood that he did know. That he, just like her, had his own hopes and dreams and fears pinned to that table, and as ridiculous as it all was, it was real, nonetheless. They were real.

She scooted over in the seat and gestured for him to join her. They didn’t quite fit, so she maneuvered herself up on his lap. His arms settled comfortably around her waist and she placed her hands lightly on his shoulders. She didn’t know who leaned in first, but time seemed to stand still as their mouths met softly. They stayed close, mouths barely touching and breath intermingling, when she softly murmured, “I still get the table Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this!


End file.
